


the post-nuclear tango

by phalangine



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Gay Mutant Road Trip, M/M, Post-Apocalypse, charles and erik collecting baby mutants, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 03:48:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8781766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phalangine/pseuds/phalangine
Summary: A take on the world if Shaw's plan to set off the nukes actually went through.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bikenesmith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bikenesmith/gifts).



> it's a touch angstier than i intended, but there's fun, too, and a bit of fluff, so hopefully that makes up for it!

After the bombs went off, everything got cold. It's as if the sun itself is recoiling from the horror earth inflicted on itself. Of course, that isn't what happened- the sun is no more sentient than the soles of Charles' worn boots or the fingerless gloves he wears that make Erik roll his eyes. The cold is born from changes in the atmosphere, according to Hank. Things that have no business being in the air live there now, and the earth is a grayer, colder place for it.

Despite the cold, Erik takes them across the country in one of the convertibles Charles’ stepfather used to collect. He gets carsick easily, Charles learned early on, and feeling the wind on his face makes him less queasy.

Charles doesn't mind bundling up against the wind. Wearing multiple hats and scarves makes watching Erik easier.

Dressed lightly in his leather jacket and fitted trousers, his long fingers encased in leather driving gloves, Erik makes the watching easy.

Before the bombs went off, Erik's skin glowed like burnished bronze in the sunlight. His eyes were almost eerie, the color pale against the dark skin of his face. They were knowing eyes, as cool as Erik tried to be. Now, in the dull, bluish light that serves as sunlight, Erik's skin looks weathered, like battle-worn armor, his eyes brighter than the world around them.

Snuggling deeper into his nest of blankets, Charles sighs and wonders how much of that change is real and how much is just the addled wondering of a very cold mind.

 

***

 

The first mutant they find is not one mutant but two: a brother and sister, refugees from the Soviet Union. Ilyana and Piotr, they are skittish- isn't everyone these days?- but ultimately accept the offer of refuge and mutant solidarity.

Charles shares his hot chocolate with them, which they accept with cold, greedy fingers.

"What," Erik asks as Charles screws the top back on, "none for me?"

"You don't like my hot chocolate," Charles reminds him. "I make it too sweet for you."

That isn't the reason, but the lie makes Erik's mouth quirk into one of his half-smiles. Charles got it right this time; he's learning to read Erik better these days.

In the back, the siblings huddle together under one of Charles' blankets, their minds buzzing happily at the thought of living somewhere warm.

 

***

 

After they drop Ilyana and Piotr off at the mansion, Charles and Erik head back out to check the next name on Cerebro's list.

"You're certain Hank read this correctly?" Erik asks as they cross from Pennsylvania into Ohio. It isn't the first time he's asked.

"If you're going to whine the entire way there..."

"I'd just like more confirmation than the analysis of a boy who turned himself blue and furry."

It isn't a criticism. It isn't even a complaint, really. Erik likes to be cranky sometimes, which is fine, because Charles likes to be cranky, too. It's always so damn cold, it makes his bones ache. And his backside hurts from sitting for hours on end. Man wasn't designed to be a sitting creature. A squatter, maybe. But not a sitter.

"If you can't trust Hank," Charles says mildly, "trust me. That was definitely a Midwesterner’s accent. I have a good ear for accents, my friend."

Erik snorts. "You do not."

"Yes, I do."

"Charles, you have many wonderful qualities. An ear for accents is not one of them."

"It most certainly is-"

They go on like that until they reach the hotel, only to resume over the lean dinner. If the food isn't filling, the conversation may as well be.

 

***

 

They find their mutant sitting on a swing set in an abandoned park. She's a young one, and alone. The sight of two men she doesn't know doesn't unnerve her. Instead, it fills her with a tired sort of dread- for them.

"Hello, I'm Charles Xavier," Charles says. "And this is my friend, Erik Lehnsherr. We're like you."

The girl's eyes narrow. "Excuse me?"

"We're mutants," Erik says. He gestures toward the swing next to the girl and sends it flying high, wrapping it around the top rail.

"Show off," Charles grumbles, which only makes Erik grin one of his large, toothy grins. "My gift isn't nearly as pretty as Erik's I'm afraid."

The girl's hands are clenched tight around the chains holding her swing up. "Oh, yeah?"

"I'm a telepath."

"Prove it."

"Your name is Anna-Marie," Charles rattles off. "You think your gift is killing people. You ran away from home in the confusion after the bombs went off, and you have no intentions of going back."

Her hands shake. "So you know you should stay away from me."

From the corner of his eye, Charles sees Erik cock his head.

"Why would we know that?" he asks. "You're one of us. You belong with your kind."

"But I could kill you-"

"You could try," Erik says carelessly. "I doubt you'd manage it, though."

Charles takes that moment to step in before Erik can get into a pissing contest with a child. "What Erik means is, we have a place for people like us. A safe place. You're welcome to come with us."

Anna-Marie hesitates.

"If you're worried about clothes, I'm sure we could buy you some," Charles adds, sweetening the pot.

Just like that, the girl hops off the swing and starts walking toward the car. "Well?" she calls, when they don't immediately follow. "What are you waiting for?"

Erik sighs and shakes his head. "What is it with you and adopting pushy girls?"

"I picked you, didn't I?" Charles asks with a wink.

Erik narrows his eyes, pondering whether he should react to the insult, before ultimately blowing out a breath and shaking his head again. "When we get to the hotel, I am going to beat you at chess for that."

"You'll try," Charles says lightly, just as Anna-Marie pointedly gives up pulling on the locked door and hops into the back.

 

***

 

"Feh! That dress is ugly."

Charles resists the urge to hit something, instead counts backwards from ten and breathes deeply for a moment. "Erik," he says, as lightly as he can when he's gritting his teeth, "would you come here, please?"

Without waiting for a response, he tugs Erik off to the side and out of hearing range of the ladies helping their newest mutant pick out new clothes.

"Could you please stop it?"

Erik lifts a brow. "Stop what?"

"You know what."

"I really don't."

Fighting the urge to growl and throw something, Charles hisses, "You're being rude!"

"Please. They're just showing us whatever is most expensive, not what would best suit her."

"And you're a fashion expert since when?"

"Since the option to dress myself was taken from me," Erik says, bleakly matter-of-fact. "Learning to dress myself again was informative."

Learning how to dress to blend in was useful for hunting Nazis, more like, but Charles isn't going to argue. Erik has made his point.

"Would you at least stop antagonizing them?" Charles pleads. "Please?"

Erik rolls his eyes. "Only if you promise to get the girl something she won't look like a sausage in."

"Yes, yes. Now can we please go back and finish this trip without offending anyone else?"

Erik keeps his word. He doesn't say anything else that upsets the ladies, but he does give Charles pointed looks whenever they try to dress Anna-Marie in something hideous.

Once they find her some changes of clothes, Charles sends the girl and Erik out to the car with the clothes while he pays, knowing that if he lets Erik linger, they will end up clashing over the bill. Erik sees through the ploy immediately but chooses not to fight Charles for once. He merely takes Anna-Marie's bags out to the car with a look that says _I am going to destroy you at chess tonight._

Even before Erik has left, Charles spots a shirt in the men's section. It's a light green that matches Erik's eyes almost perfectly. Combined with Erik's dark skin, the shirt will look stunning on him, and Charles' fingers itch to buy it. Chanukah is coming up after all, and while eight presents might be too much, one nice thing might help settle some of Erik's jitters about his welcome.

It's outrageously expensive, but Charles buys the shirt.

"What's in the bag?" Erik asks when Charles returns to the car.

"More socks," Charles lies. Erik's interest immediately disappears. They're always buying new socks, mostly for poor Hank, and Erik is worn out from driving for so long.

"You want me to takeover?" Charles asks, knowing even as the words leave his mouth that the answer will be no.

"I can handle it," Erik says, and Charles lets the subject drop.

 

***

 

Erik doesn't quite demolish Charles on the chessboard, but his aggressive plays do put Charles on the defensive more than he's used to being. Out of three games, Erik wins two, and as he swaggers out the door to his room, he turns around and gives Charles a mock bow.

"Go to sleep, you," Charles chides, and Erik nods happily before he turns back around and closes the door behind him.

 

***

 

Raven meets Anna-Marie with a blanket and a loud, "Oh, thank God, another girl!"

Erik watches from his spot at Charles' side as Raven fusses over her new friend's bags. He takes a long drag of his cigarette as the girls hurry inside. The car smells like Erik's brand now instead of Kurt's. After spending so much time with Erik and his habit, Charles is beginning to smell that way, too.

Idly, he wonders if that's why Erik smokes. If it's just a subtle way to mark what's his in a way that's difficult to change.

Stubbing out the butt of his cigarette with the toe of his boot, Erik lets out a long sigh. He reaches out with one hand and pats Charles' arm.

"I'm sorry."

Charles was so busy thinking about Erik smoking while doing things other than leaning against the car, he struggles to recall what, if anything, they were talking about. "I'm- Pardon?"

"I said I'm sorry," Erik tells the sky. "I failed."

"I don't follow."

"The bombs, Charles. I was supposed to stop Schmidt."

_I was wondering when he'd bring this up._ Charles shakes his head. "We’re a team, Erik. There isn't any one of us who bears responsibility for what happened. Shaw was, and he died to put his bloody plan into action."

"You can't tell me it's fine."

"I wouldn't dare." Pulling in a deep breath, Charles takes a risk and lays his hand on Erik's shoulder. "Can we reflect inside? My balls are freezing."

He gets the bark of a laugh he was looking for, and Erik walks him inside with an arm around Charles' shoulders.

 

***

 

The next mutant has a safe, steady life and doesn't want to come with them. She works at a diner, though, and Charles recently discovered an unexpected delight: Erik adores diner food. At home, he pecks at dinner and squirrels extras away, but when it's pennies on the dollar for pancakes and coffee- well, what was pennies on the dollar- he eats like a child with birthday cake, nearly inhaling the food as he abandons his usual impeccable manners for an outright onslaught against breakfast for lunch.

Charles watches him with a mixture of fondness and apprehension that quickly melts into relief. Erik is still made of jagged edges, but they've begun to grow blunted. The longer he stays with Charles, the more he fills out. It's a wonderful sight.

_Why are you looking at me like that?_

"You aren't the man I found in the ocean, are you?" Charles half-answers.

Erik shrugs and takes another massive bite of pancake. _You would know better than I._

Charles would have thought the same, once, but Cuba showed him differently. His gift is not omniscience, not even now with his mutation super-powered. He is capable of putting his foot in his mouth like any other mortal.

But that's why he has Erik, isn't it? This angry, wounded man who just wants to see mutants grow old and happy and keeps his metal sharp should he ever have to fight for that dream is Charles' counterweight. He sees what Charles does not.

Smiling to himself, Charles orders a refill of the terrible coffee and pretends he doesn't see Erik steal a forkful of oatmeal from his bowl.

 

***

 

They spend most of December on the road, gathering up as many homeless mutants as they can before winter sets in. Erik bows to the dropping temperatures and allows Charles to convince him to take a bus instead of the car. It quickly fills up with the wary faces of their new family, and Charles finds himself enjoying the voyage in a seat melted into the space to the right of Erik's at the very front.

Sometimes, during the long, straight stretches of highway, he falls asleep. When he wakes up, his head is pillowed on Erik's shoulder, the leather wet with drool.

"That's disgusting," Erik sighed the first time it happened. But he was smiling as he said it, and Charles nudged him in the side.

It becomes a habit, Charles falling asleep on Erik. Even some of the new mutants comment on it. Charles takes the ribbing with a bowed head while Erik shrugs and takes the next few turns a touch too quickly.

What the others aren't aware of, so far as Charles can tell, is the reciprocal habit Erik develops. During rest stops, after he's stretched his legs, he hops back in his seat, takes off his cap, and lets Charles run his fingers through Erik's hair. It's soothing for both of them, but Erik is the one who ends up sighing and nearly falling asleep as they wait for the others. He's like a big cat, nudging Charles' hand to where he wants to be petted.

It's during one of these times that Charles reaches into his coat and pulls out his carefully wrapped gift.

"I think I may be late, but happy Chanukah, my friend."

Erik opens his eyes slowly, the muzzy haze over his mind clearing slowly as he puts together the bag and the lack of petting. Charles had expected an argument, but Erik takes the present without a fight, his hands deftly undoing Charles' lopsided bow. He pulls the shirt out with the particular brand of care of a man unused to receiving gifts.

"I saw it when we got Anna-Marie her dresses," Charles says when Erik merely holds up the shirt and stares at it. "It matches your eyes nicely, don't you think? And with your dark skin, the contrast will be quite dashing."

"Charles." Erik's voice is rough.

"Yes?"

Erik doesn't answer, not with words. Instead, he takes advantage of the empty vehicle to lean in and press a kiss to the corner of Charles' lips. Charles turns his head and fits their lips together.

It's a sweet kiss, soft but sure. The sort of kiss you give someone on the thousandth day they've headed off to work. Charles loves it, wants a million more just like it.

When Erik pulls away, Charles misses him immediately.

"Shaw was right about one thing." Charles frowns, not liking the new direction of Erik's thoughts, but bites his tongue. "This is a new world, a world mutants will shape. And here, in the new order, I will have you at my side."

Erik lifts Charles' hand and kisses his knuckles, and Charles, who is tired of death and unhappiness, leans his head on Erik's shoulder and thinks, _Yes._ This world will be a better one.

"You better not rip this shirt," he tells Erik, only half joking. "If I catch you wearing it while you work on the cars, you're dead."

Erik's laugh is a low rumble that shakes through Charles like the aftershocks of an earthquake, his happiness rocking gently through Charles' heightened telepathy. Neither subsides for a long time, and as Charles snuggles closer, the better to bask in the feeling, the others climb aboard. No one says anything about Erik having an arm around Charles or how low Charles' hand is on Erik's belly. Raven will have feelings on the matter, but that's fine. She will have the little ones to distract her soon. As will they all, Charles thinks in fond resignation.

From the back, the speedy young man they found racing around a humans-only camp lets out a whoop. Charles knows without looking that the cause of the noise is the boy they found today whose mutation manifested in an affinity for the cold. Doubtless, Bobby thought it would be funny to slip an icicle down the back of poor Peter’s shirt. He did the same thing to Charles earlier.

“Am I going to have to stop the bus?” Erik asks.

Charles shakes his head. “It’s just the boys being boys.”

Erik goes still. “About Peter…”

“You think he’s yours.”

“I do.”

Charles is a bit surprised that Erik took the time to have an affair, and with a human, but having met Peter, he isn’t surprised at all that the boy is Erik’s. They have a similar ability to catch people off-guard, which they both enjoy immensely. If Erik’s childhood had been different…

But it wasn’t different. Erik is the man he is, and Charles can’t change the past.

“Will you tell him?”

Erik shakes his head. “I don’t know. I can’t prove he’s mine, can I?”

Humming thoughtfully, Charles bites the inside of his cheek.

“You think I should tell him anyway,” Erik observes.

“Are you sure you aren’t the telepath?”

“Charles.”

“Yes, yes, stop avoiding the point. I know.” Charles reaches up to touch the hand Erik has dangling over his shoulder. “If ever there was a time to find family, that time is now. If you wanted to find his mother…”

“I rather doubt she’d want to see me.”

From what Charles has gleaned from Peter’s mind, that seems like a fair assessment of Ms. Maximoff.

Another shout, this one decidedly feminine, comes from the back.

“That boy is going to get himself killed.”

Charles snorts. “Probably.”

“You aren’t going to intervene?”

“I think an hour or two hanging upside down will do him some good.”

Erik huffs a laugh and guides the bus onto the ramp for the exit to take them north to New York. There is much to be done back home; besides getting the rooms ready, Raven mentioned the government was poking its head around again and that Hank spotted what looks like the start of another human militia, this one in the Catskills where the radiation is weaker. But that’s a problem for another day. Right now, Charles has Erik where he wants him, their bus is full of mutants coming to stay with them, and the sun, such as it is, still rises. Whatever happens next, they’ll be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> we all know that diners, as the homes of true americana, will survive the apocalypse, yes?


End file.
